Christmas Morning
by WynterIsCominYo
Summary: Sometimes, the most memorable Christmas mornings are the ones that hurt the most. Pre-Season 4. Rated M, just to be safe.
1. Chapter 1

Nikola stood at the window of his apartment in Old City. **She** would no doubt be flitting about the place as she always did, feeding the Abnormals, or something of a similar ilk. He looked up at the clock; it was 6.15. He knew he didn't sleep much, being _ Sanguine Vampiris_, but even so, he'd only been asleep for an hour. His thoughts never seemed to stray far from her lately. His gaze returned to the window. As the snow fell, it dawned on him that today was Christmas Day. Not that he believed in all that nonsense, but he knew that once it meant something to him. Before the Five, before the Source Blood, before he had become so cynical, back when it was just the two of them.

His mind drifted to their very first Christmas together. They had met at Oxford at the start of the semester, and were instantly inseperable. She was brighter than any of the men in the class, and she was simply auditing. When she'd asked him to spend Christmas with her and her father, he had been only too happy to oblige her. He had already realised that he could never deny this beautiful woman anything.

_That Christmas morning would forever be etched in his mind. They had spent hours in her father's courtyard, despite there being over a foot of snow on the ground. She had insisted that they wrap up warmly, even though he was used to far more treacherous wreathing in his native Serbia. Never the less, Nikola could still recall now the distinct shade of pink that graced her alabaster cheek, and the way a lose strand of hair fell in front of her face as she knelt down to make a snowball. It would miss his head, by mere inches, and he could still hear her laugh. It hadn't mattered to them that she had missed then, and it didn't matter to him now. All he had seen was her._

_Nikola leant up against the tree in the middle of the courtyard. He sat watching her as she frolicked in the snow, her blonde curls bouncing as she walked towards him. She lost her footing and fell against him. His arm slipped around her waist protectively, making sure that she didn't fall. Their gazes locked, and for a moment, Nikola wasn't sure that having her so close was a good idea, but as he felt her lips pressed against his, he let himself go. He kissed her back, pulling her closer to him. In response, he felt her leather-gloved hand tangle itself in his hair, which sent shivers down his spine. _

_When they broke away from one another, Nikola looked at her incredulously. He was waiting for the moment where he woke up, but the moment never came. He could feel her beneath his hands, and knew that no dream could be that vivid. Every day he was learning more and more about this beautiful woman, and he didn't think he would ever feel this way about anyone. Her head tilted upwards, and he followed suit. Nikola smirked. She really was something else. Hanging from a branch of the tree was a bunch of mistletoe. "Merry Christmas Niko," she whispered, bringing her lips mere inches from his. He wouldn't waste an instant of this stolen moment with her. He closed the gap between their lips, and kissed her senseless._

Nikola growled as he pushed the memory away. His fondest memory was followed by his most painful one. They had kissed for hours, until it grew too cold for them to be outside any longer, and he thought he might expire from happiness. The next day couldn't have been more painful for him. When he had tried to greet her with a kiss, she had pushed him away. Although they still remained friends, Nikola Tesla had never forgiven Helen Magnus for breaking his heart.


	2. Chapter 2

Rolling over in her bed, Helen glanced at her alarm clock. It was only 6.15, far too early for her to feed the Abnormals, and besides, Henry and Big Guy would be doing that in a few hours. Will and Abby would probably sleep in late, so for now, she had nothing to get up for. Instead, she propped her pillows up, and sat in bed, thinking about the past. Since Ashley's death, she had tried not to think about her much, because the memories were too painful, but Christmas was Ashley's favourite time of the year, and she had many fond memories of the holiday.

She reminisced about the many Christmases spent with her daughter, watching her grow from a small, chubby cheeked infant, to a rebellious teenager, to the beautiful young woman that she would forever remain in Helen's heart. She remembered the Christmas she spent with John, one of the only happy moments she had with him, and how she had thought that they could stay that way forever. She thought back further, to the Christmases with her father, from when she was a little girl, right up to her last Christmas with him. And that was when she thought about _him_. It was inevitable, she supposed. He was such a big part of her life for a long time, and he was her best friend. She had hurt him many times, and yet he would always come back to her. Glutton for punishment, or just a man in love; she didn't know. He had told her in Rome that he was in love with her, and that he always had been. She'd thought it incredulous that he could tell her this whilst endangering her life, and trying to breed a new race of vampires, but, when she thought about it, she wasn't sure that he had simply said it to distract her.

She remembered the first Christmas that he had spent with her. He had only just started Oxford, but he was the smartest one there by far. That was one of the reasons she was so pleased to be his friend. That, and the fact that his eyes sparkled when he was talking about something he was passionate about. She asked him to spend Christmas with her for purely selfish reasons. He had been her closest friend, and the thought of him returning home to Serbia was too painful to think about.

_On Christmas morning, before he had arrived, she had gone outside and, using the leftover Christmas decorations, decorated the courtyard. She wasn't sure that he was used to the same traditions as they were here in England, so she wanted to make sure that she made every effort to show him how wonderful Christmas-time was here. As she glanced at the decorations, she realised something was missing. They always had mistletoe around Christmas time, and she was sure she had seen one of the scullery maids bringing in a substantial amount of the plant. She ran inside, and, upon locating the unused sprigs, brought them back outside, where she fashioned them into a bunch, and hung them in the tree at the centre of the courtyard. It wasn't hung up for the intention that most people used mistletoe. It was simply something she associated with the holiday, and, because she wanted it to be perfect for his first Christmas in England, had hung it up. _

_They spent the morning frolicking in the snow. She, throwing snowballs at him, and him laughing when they didn't reach their intended target. As the morning progressed, Helen found herself thinking of the mistletoe, and about its traditional use, and putting that into practise, with him._

_Helen hadn't intended on throwing herself at him, but she did use the situation to her advantage. She tripped on a tree root, hidden by the snow, and, as his hands wrapped themselves around her waist to steady her, she pressed her lips against his. She hadn't realised just how much she had wanted to do so until she was actually doing it. As she pulled away, she smiled at him, and inclined her head up towards the mistletoe. _

"_Merry Christmas, Niko." She whispered it as she brought her lips close to his again. Could this really be happening? Had she really just kissed her best friend? He was handsome, this was true. There was no point in denying it, but she was sure that he was not romantically interested in women. When she had kissed him before, he had pulled her closer, as if he too had wanted the kiss all afternoon, so when he closed the distance between their lips and kissed her again, her hand slid itself into his hair as he pulled her ever closer, crushing her against him, as if he were afraid that she would run away if he let her go. Helen didn't mind; it made her believe he wanted the same thing._

_From the very first moment they had met, Helen had found him to be the most attractive man she had ever seen. He wasn't attractive in the conventional manner, his build and his hair made certain of that, but all that she could really remember had first piqued her interest was the blue-grey of his eyes, and the way they seemed to reach her core with a simple look. It was strange but that was exactly how he made her feel, like he saw everything that she was._

Helen hadn't realised that she had been crying until she felt a tear drop onto her hand. She felt sad. Not just because of the memories of the days before she suffered so, but because she was remember how much she had made Nikola suffer after that day.


	3. Chapter 3

Gregory Magnus disliked Nikola Telsa. It wasn't a secret. He disapproved of the friendship that Helen had with him, but he put up with it, mostly because it made Helen so happy. She had promised him that they were only friends, and he believed her. When he looked out of his study window that Christmas morning though, something snapped. His daughter was cavorting with this man like a cheap harlot, and he wouldn't have it. He had to intervene. He would not allow his daughter's honour to be compromised, in any way. She would have to stop seeing this man, or at least make him believe she didn't want anything from him except for friendship. If she could not be persuaded, then he would have to be forceful with her about it. She would eventually come to terms with it, he was sure.

He didn't say anything to them throughout dinner; he felt like they wouldn't have taken any notice of him anyway. It was like they were in their own little bubble, talking about scientific theories that Tesla had come up with, theories of currents and power and things he didn't understand. Whenever he tried to join the conversation, the two would act as if his comments were completely invalid, and continue as if he had never spoken. This angered him, of course it did. His daughter was acting as if he were not smart enough to be a part of their conversation. His Helen, who he had raised, and taught all about science; was it not he who had secured her position auditing classes at Oxford? Women were not allowed in university classrooms, and yet he had done everything in his power to ensure she could be there? There was a twinkle in Tesla's eyes when he looked at her. He had seen that look before. It could not bode well for him.

When they had retired to their rooms, Gregory made his way to Helen's room. He intended to have it out with his daughter, and the look in Tesla's eye at dinner had only made it more obvious that he had to do it. He would not let his daughter carry on in such a fashion. He rapped on the door, and a voice from inside let him know that he could enter.

"Father? What is it?" Helen asked. She was sitting in the armchair by the fire, a book in her hand. She looked peaceful, so serene. He paused then. Could he really hurt his daughter the way he intended? He had to. It was for the best. And yet, it hurt him to know she would probably hate him for what he was going to make her do.

"I don't want you alone with that boy again, Helen." He didn't look at her while he spoke. He couldn't. His little girl would never forgive him for it, of that, he was sure.

"But Father, Nikola is my friend, nothing more, you know that."

"I saw you together!" Gregory looked up at her now, and he could see her cheeks flush. Part of him had wanted it not to be true, a trick of his mind perhaps, even though deep down he knew it to be true. "I cannot, and **will** not allow my daughter to behave in such a disgraceful manner. Do you understand that you could compromise your honour if people were to see you like that?" He averted his gaze once again as her eyes filled with tears.

"Father, please, let me explain!" Helen rose now to touch his arm. He pulled away from her.

"If you ever behave like that with him again, so help me Helen, I will not hesitate to disown you. Keep him as a friend, if you really must, but do not allow yourself to be alone with him. " He turned away, making his way back to the door. His hand touched the door handle, and he turned to look at her once more. The sight was heart-breaking. She was crying, silently, her book discarded on the floor, looking at him.

"Father, please… Don't do this," she pleaded. "I promise, nothing like that will ever happen again."

Gregory turned to the door again, his own heart clenching as he turned the handle and returned to his own quarters. She would never forgive him. He had seen it in her eyes. She would understand, one day, why he had to do it. He had always wanted what was best for her, and he would continue to want what was best for her for as long as he was alive. That was his job as a father, and he wasn't going to let her down.

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><p><strong>AN - **Thank you to chartreuseian and Samantha McKay for your reviews, I'm glad you're enjoying it so far. So, as a small token of my appreciation, I decided to post chapter 3 a week earlier than planned. Enjoy!


	4. Chapter 4

Helen sat in her room, completely stunned. The tears still rolled freely down her cheeks. How could he? How could her father come to her chambers, and forbid her from spending time with Niko? She was angry. Angrier than she had ever been with anyone in her life. But she knew she would, despite everything, do as he asked, even if it did hurt her.

She thought about writing him a letter, to explain everything, but it was too impersonal. On the other hand, she didn't want to see the look of pain in his eyes as she told him that what they had shared in the courtyard was something that could never happen again, because she was too loyal to her father, too desperate for his approval to follow what she wanted. She wasn't even entirely sure, even now, that Nikola would want more from it. It might have simply been the fact that they were caught up in the moment.

Yet no-one had made her feel the way he did, just from a simple glance. It was strange. You weren't supposed to feel like this about your best friend. And yet, whenever she was around Nikola, there was a feeling she couldn't describe. She always wanted to impress him, to make him feel proud, but not the same way that she wanted her father to be proud of her. She wanted him to look at her, and be proud to be in her company. When he called her intelligent, it meant a lot to her, but she remembered how she had felt when she had overheard him talking to someone, and had called her the most beautiful, intelligent young woman he had ever had the pleasure to know. In that moment, she had never believed someone's words more, and she valued his opinion more highly than even that of her father's now.

She climbed into bed, clutching at her pillow tightly. The tears continued, and she was sure that they would continue long into the night. She wanted to turn back time, to return to that morning with Nikola, but she would make sure that they were on the other side of the courtyard, away from her father's prying eyes. If he hadn't seen them, she would not be lying here in tears. She would never be so torn between her father, and her best friend. She tried her hardest to stop her mind from working, so she could sleep, but nothing would stop her. How was she going to explain to Nikola?

Sleep eventually came to her, but the tears didn't stop. They wouldn't stop until she awoke, and even then, she was on the verge of tears as she got dressed. Nikola had stayed with them last night, which meant that it was too difficult to avoid him, and despite everything, she didn't want to. They sat down to breakfast with her father, who couldn't hold her gaze. Luckily, Nikola wasn't a morning person, and they didn't speak much. Her father nodded at her as he left the room, clearly to reiterate his warning from the night before. Nikola suggested they spend some time in the library, and she made a non-committal noise. He slid his hand across the table to sit on hers, and she couldn't look at him. He rose, moving to her side of the table. He took her hand again, and pulled her up out of her seat gently. He wrapped an arm around her waist, and leant in to kiss her. Every fibre of her being wanted to kiss him back, but she knew that if she did, her father would disown her. She lifted her hands to his chest, and pushed him away, feeling the tears welling up in her eyes as she did. She turned her head so she didn't look at him.

"Helen? But I thought…"Nikola said quietly.

"I'm sorry Niko…" Helen mumbled, her eyes fixed on the door. She wasn't sure how, but she managed to get to her room before she let herself cry. She and Niko would never be the same again.

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><p><strong>AN - **So... three chapters in a day? And this one wasn't even planned. Thank you to chartreuseian for inspiring me to write this one (purely because the fangirl in me is so pleased she likes reading my stuff!) I promise Nikola and Helen will get some relief from the angst... Just not yet xD


	5. Chapter 5

Nikola was doing one of the things he did best; drowning his sorrows in a 56' Bordeaux. From Helen's personal store. He wasn't entirely sure how he had ended up here. After his early-morning trip down memory lane, he'd felt the need to take a walk. What he should have done was get on the first flight out of Old City, leave the place as far behind as possible, but that would never happen, not while she was so close by. He'd been here for months, hiding himself away. After his 're-vamping', as it had been called by the children, he had let her believe he was gone, out of her life. It was obviously difficult for her to be around him. Not that he blamed her. He'd professed his love to her many times, and she made it clear she that she didn't. Unrequited love was a killer on his part, but he had recently come to realise how awkward it was making her feel. That was the real reason he disappeared from her life.

His walk had taken him down many back-alleys and side-streets. He was trying to clear his head, but none of his thoughts would make themselves known, unless they were thoughts of her, of that Christmas morning where everything had been perfect. He had no idea where he was as he walked; the streets all looked the same when he wasn't focused on his destination. None of that mattered to him at that moment in time anyway. It was only when he came up against an EM shield that he realised exactly where he had come to. Even when he was trying so desperately to avoid her, his feet carried him there. He sighed. _Well, I could always just stay for a glass of wine or two..._

He made light work of displacing the shield so that he could pass through unnoticed by the security systems. The last thing he wanted to do was to alert her to his presence. He would go in, have some wine, and then leave before anyone had time to realise he was there. He knew he had to go down to the wine cellar, and yet, he found himself longing to take the stairs to _his_ room, the one beside hers, just for a moment. Of course, that was out of the question. He shouldn't even be here. He shook the thought from his mind, and made his way to the wine cellar.

Helen had clearly thought it safe for her to re-stock with her vintage wines, for the first bottle he picked up was a 1956 bottle of Bordeaux. He was even more delighted to find that there were a few of the same vintage side by side. He was grateful then that she had allowed him to furnish the place a little; a small table, a cabinet for wine glasses, and two of his favourite chairs. It made for a much more enjoyable time when he was polishing off her wine collection.

He had gotten through the first bottle with relative ease. His mind, however, was still uneasy. How could she rebuff him like that, after the way they had been that day? Had she just been playing a game with him the whole time? What did she think she was doing, toying with his emotions in such a way? He had never thought her capable of such a cruel thing, even after she had pushed him away so coldly, but now, he wondered if she had truly been aware of his feelings for her the whole time, and did it as a sort of punishment. He rose from the chair, taking two bottles from the shelf this time. If he was going to suffer through these long-buried memories, he was going to need as much wine as possible.

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><p><strong>AN - **So, this was a shortish chapter, I apologise! Thanks, as always, to my LOVELY reviewers chartreuseian, Samantha McKay, GrandEmpress13 and INfamouslyCK for making me want to give you more! I promise they will eventually get through their angst, but I like to make them suffer... Sorry guys!


	6. Chapter 6

Helen couldn't stand it anymore. It wasn't helping her lying in bed, thinking about her past mistakes. Damn Nikola Tesla for getting under her skin like that, after all this time! After a hundred years, she was feeling just as she did about him that day. So much had happened between that Christmas Day and now; John, Ashley, Nikola's mortality, his 're-vamping', as Kate and Will liked to call it. He couldn't still feel the same way about her, could he? She highly doubted it; As soon as he'd become a vampire again, he was gone, after all, but a part of her was longing for this to be the case.

"Bloody Hell," she muttered, rising from the bed. She didn't care that it was before 12, she wanted a drink, and there was only one thing that would do; a 1956 Bordeaux. It would make her feel closer to Nikola, and all she could think about right now was feeling close to him. She had no idea where he was, who he was with, if he was okay, and it wasn't something she wanted to feel.

Slipping her feet into her warm slippers, she pulled her dressing gown over her shoulders, and made her way down the hall. As she passed the room next to hers, she paused. This was the room Nikola had claimed as his own the very first time he had entered the Sanctuary, even though he never stayed here for more than a few weeks at a time, and she had never had the heart to argue with it. Before she knew what she was doing, she had pushed the door open and stepped inside. She hadn't ever come into this room since he had claimed it, and yet, everything was exactly as she expected it to be; freakishly neat and tidy, with nothing out of place. It didn't surprise her in the slightest, not really. He had always had a habit of being so neat, claimed it made it impossible to think unless everything was tidy.

She looked around the room, and noticed that the closet door was slightly ajar. She had never realised that he left clothes here, she always assumed that he would bring things with him, then taken them when he left. When she thought about it, though, she could never remember him bringing bags with him, so it would make sense. She nudged the door open; she was curious. There were a few suits hung there, and a smoking jacket. That was the last thing she had seen him in before he had left. Her hand rose to stroke the material softly, as she leaned forward to sniff deeply. She could still smell him on the jacket. Maybe that was why she soon found herself stood wearing it, her dressing gown discarded on the floor beside her. What better way of being close to Nikola than drinking wine in his smoking jacket? It made perfect sense to her, and that was all that mattered really. If she was going to drink her feelings for him away, she'd like to be doing it in his jacket.

Pulling the door to as she walked out of the room, Helen pulled the jacket tightly around her. She made her way, almost silently, down the hall. She wasn't going to allow herself to think about him until she got down to the cellar. He had, after much pestering, added some furniture down there, giving it his own personal touch. Spending time there would almost be like spending time with him. As she let her feet guide her down to the cellar, she noticed that the door was ajar. She thought it was a little strange. She was sure that she had closed it the last time she had re-stocked it. She pushed it open.

"Bloody Hell."

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><p><strong>AN** - Dun Dun Dun! Thank you to my lovely reviewers, who, as always, make me want to write more. Although I promised they would eventually get out of their angsty phase, I didn't say that it would happen any time soon... It makes it just worth waiting for!


	7. Chapter 7

"Bloody Hell."

Nikola thought that the wine must have started to take effect now. He could hear Helen. Looking up from the glass of wine he was nursing, he even saw her in the doorway. He knew he had to be dreaming of course; she was wearing his favourite smoking jacket, and not very much else. He stared at her. Either the wine he had been drinking had been somehow spiked to cause hallucinations, or he really was drunk.

"Nikola Tesla. What the bloody hell are you doing in my wine cellar?" Instead of moving over to him, she just stood in the doorway. He knew the real Helen Magnus wouldn't be able to control herself from crossing the room to slap him hard across the face. He continued to look at her, dumbfounded. His imagination had come up with many things in the past, but this was beyond even his wildest fantasies. Since this wasn't real, he could do whatever he wanted, could he not? He rose from the chair, and closed the distance between them. In one quick motion, he pinned her against the wall, and pressed his lips to hers. She stiffened for a moment, before slipping her hands into his hair.

It took him a moment to realise that he could really feel her under his hands, that he could taste her lips. He pulled back slowly, almost in disbelief, but her hands pulled him back. That was all the invitation he needed. His hand snaked down her side to grip her thigh, wrapping it around his waist as he pulled her up, and breaking away to kiss along her jaw line, down along her neck. The moan that escaped her mouth made him nip at the skin gently.

She tugged at his hair, and he growled against her neck, lifting his head to devour her mouth once more. This wasn't like that Christmas morning, far from it, in fact. That was innocent. They were just discovering one another then. This was something carnal about this moment. He had waited too long to taste her lips again. He would not make that mistake again, of this he was sure. This was how they were supposed to be. She belonged to him now. Maybe it was that thought, or maybe it was the smell of her skin that sent his body morphing into his vampire state. This couldn't be happening. Not now. Reluctantly, he broke the kiss, and let her unwrap herself from around his frame. He stepped back, and looked at her. He was greeted with a hard slap across his cheek.

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><p><strong>AN - **So, I caved, and gave you some fluff. Not much mind, but I felt like I owed it to you guys, for being so good to me and reading everything I've posted for this fic! I love you guys. I'm going to be taking a few days out; I have a lot going on, which is why you guys are being given this little bit of love. Don't miss me too much?


	8. Chapter 8

Helen had to be dreaming. She had to be. Even as she kissed him, she knew it had to be a dream. It didn't matter that she could smell his aftershave, or that she could feel every part of him that was pressed against her. She had to be dreaming. It was only when she felt him change, his vampire form showing through, that she realised that he really was there. He pulled away from her, and she untangled herself from his body gracefully. She looked at him for a moment, before slapping him hard on the cheek. Her heart had been beating so hard she could still hear it in her ears.

"What the hell, Helen?" Nikola asked, his cheek flushed in the shape of a hand. Only for a moment, of course, before his regenerative powers returned it to its usual pale colour, but she noticed it nonetheless. His face had changed back to his non-vampire form. She swallowed hard, trying to calm her heartbeat down before she spoke.

"I'll ask the questions, Nikola." She paused, taking a breath. "Now, going back to my original question; What the bloody hell are you doing in my wine cellar?"

Nikola stepped back from her, looking her up and down. Helen cursed herself mentally as she felt her cheeks flush at his gaze. It was strange. She wasn't angry at him for kissing her, nor was she really mad at him for the way he looked at her. Yet all the same, she needed to know why he was here, what game he was playing, or if he was even playing a game. After all those years, he had to just be doing it to get back at her for their stolen morning together.

"I'll show you mine if you show me yours." He chuckled. "I'll answer your question, ljubav, if you will tell me why, at," he looked at his watch, "10:45 on Christmas morning, scantily clad, and in my smoking jacket, you're in your wine cellar." He'd made his way back into the armchair, and settled down into it.

Helen was uncomfortable. It was visible on her face. But the stubborn streak in her wouldn't allow him to get away with not answering her question. She would think of a lie to tell him after. She walked to the cabinet, and removed a glass, before she sat herself in armchair opposite him. She took the bottle of wine that was on the table, and poured herself a glass. "You first."

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><p><strong>AN - **So sorry it's been a while since I updated, and this is a short chappie, but I felt like I needed to give you guys something to go on. I've got a ton of RL craziness going on right now, but I'll be updating as and when. Love you all!


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